Crushed
by melissaeverdeen13
Summary: A snippet of life if the divorce would've never happened - Harriet has her first crush and Jackson comes to grips with help from his wife.


When I get home from work, the house is quiet. I take off my coat, set my briefcase down, and let out a long breath as I leave my shoes on the mat where April likes them.

It's not quite 8pm yet, so I know where my girls are. I'm proven right when I see a yellow glow emanating from Harriet's room down the hall, so I make my way there. I'm happy that I got home in time to give my baby girl a kiss before she goes to sleep.

I walk up and knock twice on the doorframe, leaning on it after. April is kneeling next to our daughter's small bed, hands folded as she talks in low tones, and Harriet is looking at me, eyes bright.

"Daddy's home," she says, stretching her arms out for a hug.

April's expression is warm when she looks at me. "Hi, Daddy," she says.

I roll my sleeves up to the elbow and walk into the room, dropping a kiss on both my wife and daughter's heads. "How're my best girls?" I ask, sitting on the edge of Harriet's bed.

"Good," April says, resting her cheek in her palm.

"We were saying prayers," Harriet informs me. "Know what I prayed for, daddy?"

"Hmm?"

She giggles, chin to her chest. "You to come home."

I lean forward, cupping her cheeks in my palms as I kiss her forehead. "Looks like your prayers were answered," I say.

"The board meeting didn't keep you late?" April asks.

"Nah," I say. "We came to a decision pretty quickly." I look at our daughter, who's been privy to hospital conversation her whole life. "Know why…?" I ask, waiting for her to finish the sentence.

"'Cause Daddy's the boss!" she cheers, and April laughs while shaking her head.

"At work," April says pointedly, tickling Harriet's ribs. "Daddy's the boss at work. Who's the boss at home?"

I answer before Harriet can, leaning over and jostling April's shoulders. "Mama's the big, bad boss at home," I say, voice pretend-gruff. "And she's scarier than I could ever be."

April swats my leg. Harriet and I crack up.

"Okay, okay, enough playtime," April says. "It's time for little bug to get to sleep. Big day tomorrow!"

I furrow my eyebrows as I rack my brain. I know I should remember what the big day is, but I can't. I've been so bogged down at work, I've barely been able to keep track of my own schedule, let alone our first-grader's.

I clear my throat and try to sound nonchalant. "Big day?" I say.

April casts me a look and Harriet throws her head back dramatically. " _Daddy_ …" she groans.

"I'm sorry!" I say. "I'm sorry. Daddy's been so busy, my brain's about to explode. I can't even tell my butt from my head anymore."

Harriet busts up laughing and April narrows her eyes. "Jackson."

"Daddy, it's my _career day_ tomorrow," Harriet says. "You said you're gonna come. To talk about being a doctor and fixing people."

Then, it dawns on me. "Right, right!" I say. "See, I didn't forget. It just slipped my mind."

"That means forgetting," Harriet says.

I tickle her feet under the covers and she shrieks. "When did you get so smart?" I say, still tickling. "Huh? When did you get smarter than your daddy?"

"Stop!" she cries, giggling uncontrollably.

"Okay, okay," I say, giving in. "So, what time's this thing? When am I gonna show up and blow all these other parents out of the water?"

"Mommy's coming, too," Harriet says. "'Cause you both are doctors who fix people."

April raises her eyebrows and nods. "Mm-hmm," she says, then looks at me. "It's at 1. I thought we'd take a late lunch and go. Shouldn't take more than an hour."

"Alright," I say, voice peppy. "Hats, we'll be there."

"Yay!" she says.

April looks at our daughter pointedly. "You wanna tell Daddy the other thing you were talking to me about?" she asks.

Harriet pulls her covers up to her chin and shakes her head. "No," she says.

April chuckles. "Okay. Then it's time for little girls to get their rest," she says, leaning over and puckering her lips. Harriet gives her a kiss and wraps her arms around her mother's neck, lingering for a long moment.

"Love you, mama," Harriet says sweetly, then gives me the same hug and kiss. "Love you, stinky dad."

I press a hand to my heart in fake offense. "Wow," I say. "Sending me off with that, after Mommy got the most heartfelt goodnight. Sure, I see how it is. Yeah, you just watch how bad I make my presentation tomorrow."

"No, daddy, don't! I for real love you!"

I laugh and kiss the top of her hair, woven in tight braids by April just today. "I know, bug," I say. "I'm kidding. I love you, too. Sweet dreams."

We walk out of her room, leaving the door open a crack and the nightlight on. April goes ahead of me into the kitchen, putting away plates left on the table from dinner, and I loosen my tie.

"Good day today?" she asks, leaning over to open the dishwasher.

"Yeah," I say. "Good. But long. How was yours? I barely saw you."

She shakes her head, inhaling deeply before sighing. "Long day, too," she says. "6-hour surgery. I got out just in time to get her from school, and I was cutting it close."

"Shit," I say.

"I know," she replies. "I can't be late again. I swear they'll call CPS."

I snort. "They know what we do for a living," I say.

"Still doesn't mean they like us," she mutters. "All those mothers, god, if looks could kill. I get more side-eyes in a day at that school than I've gotten my entire life. They judge us so hard, you know. Because I'm not a stay-at-home mom with a nanny to boot."

"I know," I say, walking around the corner and trailing a hand over the small of her back as she's doubled over, loading dishes. "And I'm sorry."

"Well, they look at you like you're a piece of meat," she says. "Looking forward to that tomorrow?"

"Should be fun," I say. "Sorry for forgetting, by the way. Work's just been crazy."

"I know, honey," she says. "As long as you're there, that's what matters."

"I love you," I say, pulling a jar of peanut butter from the cabinet. I dip a spoon in and take a big bite, then spit it back out. "Jesus, what is this?"

She looks back at me over her shoulder. "Oh," she says. "Soy-nut butter."

"Soy-nut what?" I repeat.

"No peanut products allowed at school," she says. "Too many allergies."

"Oh, so does this mean I can finally kiss my wife with a peanut-buttery mouth?" I ask, skimming one hand up her spine.

She chuckles. "If you wanna taste the remnants of garlic from the leftover lasagna we had for dinner," she says.

"I'd love nothing more," I say, and she stands up straight. "C'mere. Come kiss your husband."

I press my lips to hers and wrap an arm around her waist. "I love you, too, by the way," she says, pulling back to return to the dishwasher.

I lean the small of my back against the countertop. "Oh, I was gonna ask," I say. "What didn't Harriet wanna tell me?"

April stands up again, one hand on the counter as she looks at me, wearing a bemused expression. "Oh, you're gonna die when you hear this," she says.

My brow furrows. "What?"

"Someone has her first crush."

I jolt my head, surprised at the news. "What?" I say again. "Harriet?"

"Yep," April says, going back to the dishes.

"Wait, wait, hold on a minute," I say. "She's seven."

April shrugs. "She's in first grade now, babe. Things are a little different."

I set the jar of peanut butter down along with the spoon that clinks against the counter. "Hold on a minute. Tell me about this kid."

"She didn't tell me much. She just said, 'Mommy, I like-like a boy.' I asked for his name, she said it was Leo. Leo… Benson, maybe it was? It was something with a B."

"What does she know about like-liking?" I ask, feeling something weird in my stomach. Harriet is my baby. She can't have a crush. She's little.

"Oh, Jackson," April says. "You're not gonna get all bent out of shape about it, are you?" She takes one look at me and already knows the answer. "Breathe, babe. She likes him because he gave her his pudding at lunch."

"Sounds like there might be something going on there," I say, voice tight.

"Something going on?" April echoes, laughing. "What, you think I should send her to school with the birds and the bees talk because a little boy shared his pudding with her? Honey, come on. Listen to yourself. Be rational."

"I know," I say, under my breath. "I know. But pudding could turn into other things."

"In first grade," April reminds me.

I groan, rubbing my temples. "Exactly, that's my point. I didn't think the boy thing would start this young."

With my eyes closed, I feel her dainty hands on my wrists as she pulls them down. "You have nothing to worry about," she says. "If I thought you'd freak out this much, I wouldn't have told you."

"I'm glad you told me," I say, pulling her hips close. "So I know who to look for tomorrow. I'll make him fear for his life."

"Jackson Avery," April warns, giving me a scolding look.

"I'm _kidding_ ," I say. "But, think about it. I had my first kiss when I was eight, in the breezeway. Sophie Malone."

Her eyes narrow. "Such a private school kid, saying words like 'breezeway.'" She giggles. "And I'm going to look up this 'Sophie Malone' and tell her she better keep her hands off my man."

I kiss her softly, lingering for a moment. "You know I only have eyes for you," I say. "Sophie Malone can't hold a candle to my wife."

"That's what I like to hear."

"So, when was yours?" I ask.

She looks at me, doe-eyed. "Before the boards," she says. "With you."

"Lying ass," I say, pinching her sides.

She shrieks with laughter, then shushes me. "Stop, you'll wake her up," she says, so I stop. "No, I'm kidding. But I wasn't freaking eight years old, you baby casanova. I was 19."

" _Nineteen_?" I say, eyes wide.

"Way to make me feel real good about it," she says sarcastically. "I know I was late. You know how I was as a kid. I was a huge nerd, Jackson. You think any boy wanted to kiss me back then?"

"I would've."

"With braces and acne out the wazoo, headgear for a year and one eyebrow instead of two? Sure, keep telling yourself that."

I graze my hands lower to grip her ass. "You're a swan," I say.

"And you're a kiss-ass."

"And?" I say, laughing. "Anyway, what was this poor schmuck's name?"

She smiles. "Peter Hamelink."

"Ham link?" I say.

"Shut up," I say. "People did call him that."

"Unfortunate," I say. "Well, serves him right if he thinks he can get away with kissing my wife."

She swats me on the chest and looks up, locking her arms around my waist. "Promise you won't do something stupid tomorrow with this whole crush thing," she says. "She didn't even want you to know. So, don't let on."

"Mm-hmm…" I say. "Maybe. I could be persuaded."

"I'm gonna kill you."

"If 'I'm gonna kill you' is code for 'I'm gonna get naked,' then I'm all for it. Kill away," I say.

She rolls her eyes and flicks off the kitchen light, making her way to our bedroom. I catch up with her, smack her on the ass, then run ahead.

When April and I walk into the assembly hall at Harriet's school the next day, I inconspicuously keep my eyes open for a certain someone. I don't know what this kid looks like, but I have half a brain. He'll definitely be sitting by my little girl.

April and I stand along the wall with the other parents, and I spot Harriet's braids adorned with new pink beads among the crowd. She's scanning the parents looking for us, and we lock eyes at the same moment. I give her a wave and see a boy next to her, a boy who's sitting way too close for my liking.

"Come here," I say under my breath, waving her over. I want to get her away from this kid, thinking that if she comes and says hi to us, someone else will take her spot.

She gives me a confused expression and points to her teacher, then April hits my arm. "She can't leave her class," she says. "She's in school. And I know what you're trying to do, so quit it."

"I'm not doing anything," I say, feigning innocence. "Just wanted to say hi to my kid. I didn't know that was a crime."

"For you, with ulterior motives, it is," April mutters. "And straighten up, mister. Everyone's staring at us."

"Probably at you, because of the way your ass looks in those pants," I say. "Mmm."

She hits my arm harder. "Jackson, I am not kidding."

"Okay, okay," I say. "I'm on my best behavior from here on out."

When it's our turn to go up to the stage, the crowd cheers and Harriet is absolutely beaming. We practiced our speech in the car on the way over, and I'm supposed to start it, but I can't think about anything other than the little scrub who's sitting next to my daughter.

April stares at me during the beat of silence, waiting for me to begin. When I don't, she takes over and I don't snap out of it until our time on stage is over.

"Give a big round of applause for Harriet's parents!" the announcer says. "April and Jackson, the surgeons. How amazing, right?"

We exit the stage and April sighs. "Were you plotting murder?" she asks, once we're out of earshot of anyone else.

"No," I say.

"Just going through every possible worst-case scenario you could think of."

"Pretty close, yeah."

"If you're this insufferable when she's seven, how are you going to be when she's seventeen?" April asks, holding my wrist gently. "And actually kissing boys? Bringing them home to meet us?"

I shudder. I trust our daughter and her judgment, and I'm all for her freedom, but I can't think about that yet. She's still my baby. I still see her as the tiny bundle who I introduced to April after she was born on Meredith's dining room table.

"Let's cross that bridge when we get to it," I say.

The kids are allowed to see their parents for a few minutes before school resumes, and Harriet rushes up to us with a smile on her face. She flies into April's arms and April spins her around, hugging her close.

"Did we do good, baby?" she asks.

Harriet nods, the beads on her braids clicking. "Yeah," she says. "Mostly you, Mommy. Daddy, you didn't even talk. Did you get stagefright?"

My eyes rove to the little boy who'd been sitting next to her, now just a few feet away talking with his own parents. "Uh, yeah," I say. "That was it." I clear my throat and nod towards the boy. "Is that your friend?" I ask. "I saw you were sitting by him."

Harriet glances over her shoulder. "Oh, yeah," she says. If I'm not mistaken, I catch a hint of her mother's blush painting her cheeks. "That's Leo B."

Leo B. Leo B. himself.

"Is there, I don't know, anything you wanna tell me about this Leo B.?" I ask. "Something you might have told Mommy-"

"Jackson," April says, through gritted teeth. "Leave it."

I leave it.

April kneels down and hugs Harriet close. "Hope we made you proud, baby," she says. "Have a good rest of your day, okay? Daddy's gonna be here to pick you up tonight and I'll be home for dinner."

"Okay, mama," Harriet says, then waves to me. "Bye, stinky dad."

I sigh as she walks away, and April takes my arm as we walk out towards the main doors. "How you feelin', Daddy?" April asks, teasing me as she looks up. "Pretty crushed?"


End file.
